


Nightcap

by By_Noa



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/By_Noa/pseuds/By_Noa
Summary: Nightcap is set after season 5 finale.When Rick discovers a problem Michonne is having, he offers his services.





	

Michonne shuffled around in bed, trying to find a position she could sink into but even after the warmth enveloped her sleep refused to take her. The moon was comforting, soft and bright, illuminating the crease in the wall and door, washing away the shadowed corners enough so that she wouldn’t have to leave the side lamp on. It wasn’t that she was afraid of dark corners, they just kept her muscles tense, kept her mind in survival mode because beyond those walls, out in the wild there had been none to protect her. 

 

After several attempts to find that perfect position, she ended up twisted in the blankets and kicked them off in a moment of frustration. Her mind had been back on auto-pilot since Pete used her Katana to kill Reg and she hadn’t figured out a way to shut it off even after Rick shot him. He was dead and she wanted to kill him for snatching the security she thought she’d found in Alexandria, and for using her sword to do it, because of him she hadn’t slept a wink since.

 

She sat up and scooted across the bed, pulling the pillow and blanket with her to the floor where she settled. There was something about the hardwood that had become a comfort to her though the bed was a luxury, it was one she wasn’t sure she could afford anymore. Not when she anxiously waited for something bad to happen again. She propped the pillow between her neck and shoulder with a deep and weary sigh and watched the sun come in, again. During the night she’d felt herself drift but she’d kept coming back to one thought: Rick.

 

Michonne felt herself relax when the silence was filled with soft mumbles outside her door and smiled when she heard Rick telling Carl to keep his voice down so she could sleep. If only he knew.

 

She leaned her head back and took in the sounds of their voices, allowing it to drown out her own thoughts. She’d rather hear Carl telling his dad about a comic he was reading then think about the possibility of being wrong about Alexandria. Eventually, she exhausted herself and sleep paid her a visit right when she’d planned to get up and slip into the shower while the Grimes boys talked.

 

It felt as though her eyes had only just closed when her bedroom door knocked and Rick’s voice came through it. “Michonne, Breakfast.” He opened the door before she could unravel herself from the entangled sheets and stood in the doorway, taken aback to find her bedding laid out on the floor. “Mornin’.”

 

Michonne stood up and turned her back to him, tying up her hair before she leaned over and tended to folding the sheets, softly laying them back on the bed. She didn't plan on responding but she couldn't control her breathing, and she knew that was as much a giveaway as glaring at him. Her body always gave her away, to Rick especially.

 

“Sorry about that,” Rick stepped into the room and pushed it behind him. “Everythang OK?”

 

Michonne breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. “Yep,” 

 

Rick rested his hand on his holster and the frown lines deepened when she wouldn’t look at him. “You want to talk about it?”

 

Michonne contemplated telling him what was on her mind but the truth was everything was tumbling around up there, keeping her awake at night, especially thoughts of him. She took a deep breath and turned to him knowing if she didn’t he would find stealthy ways to check in, gauge her temperament, making sure she was alright, doing that thing he did with his eyes were he scanned her for deception. He'd ask her to go over the plans for expansion with him, or go on a run and her body would tell him exactly what he wanted to know, eventually. It was the way they'd learned to communicate over the years. “We - you and I, don’t lie to each other.” He’d said after his mishap with the guns and plotting alongside Carol and Daryl. Just before the meeting, he’d pulled her into their living room and apologised again and Michonne had replied with a threat, warning him if he apologised again, she’d kick his ass. They’d laughed, him with that boyish charm and she caught herself lingering after that. 

 

“Michonne?”

 

“Not today,” She ground out - because she had to give him something, and he never interpreted her words. He took them as gospel. No meant no, and later meant later.

 

Rick nodded in understanding, he was going to give her as much time as she needed. After spending so much time together he’d come to realise coaxing didn’t work on her gentle or otherwise. He had to wait for her to be ready and if we was patient enough, sure as day, she would come out of her shell and sit beside him. “Carl made you breakfast,” He smirked, rubbing his hand down his dusted with stubble jaw and neck.

 

She forced a smile. “I’ll be right down.”

 

“I’ll see you down there,” Rick backed out of the room and she waited for his steps to fade away before letting the tension holding her up go.

 

After a long and hot shower she emerged in the kitchen smelling of champagne mango soap. She’d taken it for herself in the beginning when they were shown the houses and Rick told her to have first pick of the rooms. The bathroom was the first thing on her mind and the flavoured soaps sat pretty in a knitted basket on a shelf beside the mirror. Her tears had gathered, blurring her vision when she thought of Andre and his penchant for trying to eat soap when she sat him in the bath. She picked it up and placed it in her bedroom, claiming it with her bar of soap.

 

Judith was sat in her highchair with Rick in front of her on a stool. “You’re going to have to start pulling your weight around here soon,” He smiled as his baby giggled at him, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it in her tiny palm. “No excuses,”

 

Michonne found herself smiling with Judith. Rick was a great father when the world let him take a breath from saving it. “Where’s Carl?” She asked, having scanned the living room and empty kitchen.

 

“Carol needed help in the garden,” Rick held the spoon full of baby food to Judith’s lips, opening his mouth to encourage her to eat. It worked like a charm, sometimes. “He left it in the microwave.” He frowned, followed by a smile that melted the lines. "We have a microwave,"

 

"Get used to it," Michonne walked over to the microwave and retrieved the plate, passing Rick to sit down at the table beside Judith. Her presence always distracted baby Grimes and she struggled in her high chair trying to turn so she could face Michonne with her arms out. “Good morning to you, too,” She reached over with a smile that she didn’t have to force and kissed Judith’s chubby hand.

 

“It’s your hair,” Rick said with a playful glint in his eye and a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “Hell, it’s you. She can’t get enough.” He dropped the spoon into the bowl of food and stood up, lifting Judith out of her chair to set her down on his lap.

 

Michonne smiled at Carl’s solid attempt at eggs and pancakes. “Smells good.”

 

“I was just as surprised as you are now.” Rick kissed Judith atop her head. There was a lightness in his voice, a fondness, a prideful light in his eyes whenever he spoke of Carl’s accomplishments, big and small, his heart would swell the same.

 

They were out in the wild a very long time and the last thing on anyone’s mind was quality. While everyone took turns throwing something together when they needed to eat, Carl hadn’t gotten his chance to contribute which at the time bothered him more than he’d admit. Alexandria gave him a chance to contribute in a way that wasn’t life or death and both Rick and Michonne were grateful for that despite recent events.

 

“He made a grave mistake showing me his cooking skills,” Michonne said around a mouthful of pancake.

 

Rick watched Michonne intently with a lingering smile as she ate, oblivious to him until Judith snatched his bottom lip in her hand and pulled at it with amusement. “Ow, baby,” He slowly held her wrist and gently shook her hand until she released his lip, pausing when he heard Michonne’s quiet laughter. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Michonne smirked with her head bowed low, attempting to hide her laugh.

 

“No, go on,” Rick insisted. “What’s so funny?”

 

“It’s just this thing she does when she’s done with you,” Michonne sat back. “She gets handsy,”

 

Rick’s brows shot up with amusement. “Oh, is that right?”

 

“Give her here,” Michonne pushed her plate away and held her hands out, taking Judith into her arms as Rick leaned closer. Judith sat on Michonne’s arm contently, looking around the room with a dread curled around her hand. 

 

There had a been a time when she couldn’t even look at Judith, let alone touch her but the baby was persistent and had decided she was going to be held by Michonne. She had avoided it as much as she could but with everyone chipping in and helping Rick whenever and wherever they could, she’d forced herself to get close, sitting beside the gurgling baby at first. As time went on, she started to play with her here and there, discreetly making funny faces for Judith’s eyes only and finally when she had decided she was done hiding from the pain, she walked right up to Rick and held her hands out. “You sure?” He’d asked and her heart thumped a little harder because she feared he knew. She never doubted Carl would say anything but she knew all about parental intuition and although Rick never mentioned it, there was something in his eyes telling her it was OK. He would never say anything. Not about that.

 

Judith was asleep within minutes of being in her arms.

 

Rick cleared his throat. “I have music,” He said, waiting for Michonne to react but she continued to soothe Judith. “An old MP3 player Herschel gave me." He glanced down at his empty hands. "I thought I had lost it, after everythang -- anyway, if it’ll help you sleep, it’s yours.” He lifted his gaze.

 

She turned to him, still bouncing Judy and nodded, a thanks. 

 

He nodded. It was settled.  
_______

 

Michonne hadn’t realised until the very moment Carl said goodnight that she’d been tense all day, waiting for night to inevitably come. Her muscles were sore and her nerves were shot, and she hoped that coupled with double vision was going to help her fall dead to the world, as soon as her head hit the pillow.

 

Well after Carl had gone to sleep she found herself still glued to the sofa. Carol had stepped in shortly after Carl went to bed and headed for the shower but Rick was still unaccounted for. Really? Once it had become clear she’d been waiting for him to get home, she laughed at herself, feeling more than a little silly and dragged herself off the sofa. Just then, the door opened with a soft click.

 

All the lights in the hallway were on but she’d been sitting in the dark when he stepped in. “Michonne?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” She ignored the ache in her shoulders and straightened her back until she heard a satisfying click.

 

He tilted his head, trying to find her in the dark. “You OK?”

 

“Heading up.” She stepped out into the light and his eyes fell away. “You OK?”

 

Rick nodded but his eyes were still somewhere near her boots. “I’ll be up in a minute,” He cleared his throat, and rocked back on his heel. He wanted to say something but was holding back, she could see it. His body spoke to her, too.

 

Michonne didn’t respond. She headed up the stairs, wondering what it was she’d seen in his eyes when he walked in but she didn’t mull over it long. Not once she’d entered her room and saw her bed waiting for her with empty promises. She sighed and toed off her boots leaving them where they fell, and then she pushed the door. She told herself it wasn’t because Rick was coming up and she wanted to see him, she’d decided a long time ago outside of Alexandria that she wasn’t going to think about him anymore. That any interest she may have entertained was because he commanded it, to be seen, heard and followed. But a little voice at the back of her head was saying something opposite, it was saying she wanted to see, hear and follow him. Needed to.

 

“Michonne,” His voice was gruff and lazy.

 

She turned to the door and saw his shadow, after what had happened in the morning, he’d decided against barging in again. She smiled, he was so easy to train. “Come in,”

 

He cleared his throat and stepped in holding up the small black device with the wiry earphones wrapped around it. “I put in new batteries,”

 

Michonne was deliberately slow in her walk towards him as she closed the space between them, and her hand cupped his in the moment it took to exchange the mp3. “What’s on here?”

 

His eyes had dropped down to her breasts and flitted back up to her lips and then her eyes. He was intensely quiet, focused and Michonne matched it, she wished she could help herself but every time Rick challenged her, she accepted, although she couldn’t blame him this time because she was braless. “Some old stuff,”

 

She unwrapped the player and walked over to her bed, plugging them into her ears. She pressed the button to listen, and then she started laughing, which broke Rick out of the spell her nipples had left him in. “When you said old, I thought you were talking, Miles Davis, Ellington, Simone, Day, or something.”

 

“You like Jazz?” Rick hadn’t realised how surprised he was until the question left his mouth but it was a reminder that he didn’t know enough about Michonne. He could never know enough.

 

“You’re surprised, what kind of girl do you think I am, Rick?” There was playful tone in her voice and a sparkle in her eye as she sat down on the bed.

 

He took a moment to think about it and then a smile slowly appeared. 

 

“What?” She asked, watching as he leaned his arm against the door frame, lifting his shirt a little.

 

“Nothing, never mind,” He said. “Now I think about it, I can’t picture you listening to anything else.” The thought made him happy. 

 

Silence fell over them and the slight static from the song playing on the mp3 which she’d placed on the bed penetrated it. 

 

“Well,” Rick leaned back on the heel of his foot. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

 

“Night,” She watched him pull the door behind him and her eyes fell to the stream of light running across her floor. She ran both hands up and down her face and then one strayed to her tired shoulder where she attempted to rub out the kinks that had knotted there during the course of the day. She was tempted to go and ask Rick where the Bourbon was kept but she couldn’t bring herself to even stand up.

 

“I'm thinking reinforcements can't hurt,”

 

Michonne turned to the door and felt her heart swell inside her chest when she saw Rick in her doorway, holding a pillow tucked under his arm. 

 

“I could stay with you - a while” He dropped his gaze momentarily before meeting her eyes. Rick wasn’t cocksure when it came to Michonne, not in their private moments. He could talk to her about how he needed her to delegate jobs to the Alexandrians or share his concerns about Carl or his reservations about Deanna but when they were alone together he let some of it go. At first it was to soften her and coax her out of her armour and then it just never went away. He felt vulnerable with her, sometimes involuntarily. “Just until you fall asleep. I’ll take the floor of course,”

 

“Of course,” Michonne smirked at him and tipped her head, calling him into the room.

 

He felt his cheeks heat up like he was in a furnace and turned to the door to close it. After a passing moment he switched off the light and saw the glow of the lamp against the wall in front of him.

 

“You don’t have to,” Michonne said. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“You need a decent night’s rest,” Rick ate up the floor and dropped his pillow at the head of her bed, underneath the window. “In order for that to happen, you have to actually sleep.” There was a smile in his voice, a tease somewhere in there that she caught. 

 

Michonne watched him as he kicked off his boots and sat down on the floor, pressing his back up against the wall. She climbed under her sheets and puffed up the pillows before resting on it. Her eyes travelled across his face and the way the orange glow left half of him in the shadow with a little moonlight streamed down over his hair.

 

His eyes were downcast when he smiled. “You want a bedtime story?”

 

“Depends,” Michonne said. “Do you want a pillow to the face?” She heard his gruff snort in the dark and closed her eyes as her muscles relaxed and she sunk like a rock in quicksand. His presence alone was like a warm blanket caressing her to sleep.

 

His smile slowly faded. “Have you slept since we got here?” 

 

Michonne opened her eyes. “A little,” She paused. “Not a lot,”

 

He lifted his knees and draped his arms over them, tangling his fingers together. And then he looked up at her. “Why not, I thought you wanted this place,”

 

Michonne sat up on her elbow. “I do.”

 

“Then what is it that’s keeping you up?”

 

Michonne pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, contemplating where to start. There was a lot things firing along the paths of her brain. She was restless and tired, and tense, and anxious and unsure about her place and role in Alexandria. She wasn't looking for a pep talk or reassurances because she was resourceful enough and driven enough to discover it herself. But she had to start somewhere. “You killed Pete.”

 

Rick’s eyes stilled on hers and his lips parted slightly, and then clamped shut. He dropped his hands over his knees and let them hang. “I had to.” He said barely above a whisper after a long drawn out silence.

 

“I know. It’s just,” She sighed deeply and the lines in her forehead deepened. She never wanted Rick to think she ever doubted him, even when she questioned his choices it wasn't to point out any misgivings or doubt. He had to remove a threat, he had to. This was more than that.“You’re all here because of me, I pushed this and if anything goes wrong -- it’s on me.”

 

Rick frowned at her. “That’s not how this works,” He gestured between them. “We’re all in this together, no matter what happens.”

 

Michonne nodded.

 

After several moments of silence, Rick smiled. “You were right,”

 

She looked up at him, with a questioning look. “About what?”

 

“Everythang,” He chuckled, scratching his thumb nail against his index finger. “I don’t know when I started being so wrong. I think it’s when you showed up.” His eyes wandered to her mouth. “Carl took to you like I’ve never seen him take to anyone, no warm up period, no second thought.” He looked at her intently before dropping his gaze again. “He loves you,”

 

Michonne chuckled and fell back against her pillow, curling her arm around it. Andrea had opened the door to the cage she'd been keeping her heart hostage in but it was Carl who walked right in and took it. She'd been enslaved to her grief so long, so numb that she'd forgotten what it had felt like, to feel it pumping blood around her body, to hear it remind her she was alive. She had survived this terrible apocalypse and unspeakable loss and all she wanted was death, but something in her wouldn't let it happen. After a while fighting became a knee jerk reaction, it wasn't out of fear or instinct to survive, it was pure rage, like literally attacking herself. All her trapped thoughts and buried emotions had a chance to breathe air when she was killing, and that's all she was for a long time, a killer. Then Carl forced her to be something else, and so did Rick. “He knows I feel the same way,”

 

He held her gaze and slowly nodded. 

 

She could see he wanted to say something, but it wasn't ready to come out of him yet and she won't push. She'll never push. “Are we going talk about what happened that night at the meeting, about Pete?”

 

“What’s to talk about? He was dangerous -- we weren’t safe. Any of us.” Rick could hear himself and there was a time where he truly believed in one thing, survival, black and white but now he wasn't so sure. He wanted to believe everything he did was for a good reason and unfolded the only way it could but in the back of his mind, something else was there, lingering insidiously. The world went to shit and he adjusted, he had to.

 

“You executed him.”

 

Rick leaned forward, watching her closely. “You think I did the wrong thing?”

 

“No, I don’t.” She said unequivocally and without hesitation. “I just asked if you wanted to talk about it, that’s all.”

 

He let go of the breath he’d been holding and leaned back against the wall, glancing at her as she leaned on her elbow. “They all think I’m a monster.” So do I.

 

Michonne looked up at him, horror etched on her face. “I know you’re not,” She enunciated. 

 

Rick rubbed at his eyes. He already knew how she felt but he needed to hear it from her mouth.

 

Michonne wanted to crawl down there beside him and run her fingers through his hair while she kissed away all his doubt and fear. She wouldn’t follow anyone else the way she followed him, he was more than he knew, more than a leader and a father, he was a hero. He didn’t say anything for a long while but she didn’t need him to, she always understood his silence better anyway. “Doesn’t mean you can’t work harder to show them that you’re not.”

 

He sighed, scrubbing his hand across his beard. “I got nothing to prove,”

 

“Not prove, Rick. Show. We’re here but it’s like you’re not. You haven’t accepted them, you barely say hello.”

 

He chuckled. “‘Cause you’re so friendly,”

 

She attempted a smile that faded too quickly. “I’m trying.”

 

He nodded and silence fell between them, and then he smiled. “I know.”

 

“We could use their help. This place won’t stay standing without them.” Michonne offered. Diplomacy was not her default setting but she was tired of moving and she knew they would need the towns' folk in the long run. Not just to protect, build and grow but create what they'd all been longing for since the prison. Community.

 

“Do you trust them?” Rick asked.

 

She lifted her chin, challenging him. “Do you trust me?”

 

“I do.” He nodded. “Do you --?”

 

“Yes.” Michonnne whispered.

 

“Why -- then, I mean, back at the prison, after I --,” They'd met in strenuous circumstances and Rick often thought back to how he behaved in the beginning. He hadn't exposed her to his best self and yet she stuck around, even after the questionable things he'd done, the spilt second consideration he'd put the Governor's offer under. He was in a spiral and going out of his mind and she stayed. Michonne stayed.

 

Michonne leaned her face into her palm. “Because I saw you at your weakest. I saw you broken, falling apart -," She closed her eyes momentarily. "but I also saw your compassion for the people with you.”

 

Rick had thought she’d trusted him because he was willing to do things a lot of them weren’t willing to do but he didn’t know if he should be relieved, grateful even that she’d chosen him because he was broken. Broken like her. “I almost lost it, hell, I did for a while.”

 

Michonne tilted her head, seeking his eyes before she spoke again, and when he looked up at her her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed and breathed out. “If you hadn’t lost it, I wouldn’t have stayed. A man who can’t feel is a man without remorse and a man without remorse -- is the Governor.”

 

“All this,” He gestured to her. “Is it ‘cause of me? Am I keeping you up? -- Do you think I’m losing control?”

 

“I think we’re all trying to adjust,” Michonne sighed. “What used to be normal -- isn’t anymore.” She frowned. “I know you have to think about Carl and Judith, keep them safe. I understand why, Rick. I get it. I just - don’t want you to shut down a second chance and close everyone out.”

 

He looked at her. “I have who I need.”

 

Her heart clenched and she breathed slowly. “Doesn’t mean you can’t make room, the way you did for me. For the first time we can think about what we want instead of what we need. We can let our guard down," She brought her finger and thumb together. "just a little bit.”

 

“Will it help you sleep better?”

 

Her smile was wicked, teasing. “Maybe,”

 

“Alright,” Rick drawled. “I’ll try it out. See what happens.”

 

Michonne plopped her head down on the pillow. “Thank you,”

 

“For what?” He asked with incredulity. 

 

“Talking my ear off,” She teased as she turned to face him. “I’m going to sleep for a week now.”

 

Rick laughed, nodding at her jabs but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, not when it was so perfect. He closed his eyes in that moment, comitting her laugh to memory. “G’night,”

 

“Night, Rick.

 

_______

 

Michonne stirred awake and was met with darkness. She turned her head to where she'd last seen Rick and found he'd managed to carry the rocking chair from his room without making a sound and was now holding Judith in his arms. He shushed her while stroking the back of her head. 

 

She;d tensed when she opened her eyes, ready to fall out of bed but something calmed her and she knew it was Rick. Him being in the room made her feel safe and it wasn’t a safe from danger kind of feeling, but a warm cozy safe, a ‘I’ll be right here’ safe.

 

The moonlight had paled and the silver glow streamed across his chest, leaving most of him in the dark, in particularly, his face. Judith settled against his chest as he continued to talk to her in hushed tones. “I wish Beth was here to sing to you.” He kissed atop her head. “I miss her, too.” Judith twitched a little and gripped his shirt in her fist. “Shush, we have to let her sleep. OK? Do you want grumpy Michonne or cuddly Michonne? Huh?”

 

Michonne smiled in the dark and she was glad he couldn’t see her awake because she couldn’t let him see her loving him.

 

______

 

Michonne opened her eyes and turned her head to Rick. Her door was slightly ajar leaving her to assume he put her back down or Carl grabbed her. She sat up and watched his stubble dusted throat and the rise and fall of his chest. “Rick,” She whispered until he opened his eyes.

 

Rick sat forward and leaned his elbows into his thighs as he cupped his face. "Mornin'," He took a deep breath and his back expanded with it. Finally, he let his hands fall away and sat up, pinning her with his gaze. “You sleep OK?”

 

“Better,” Michonne pushed her sheets back. “You didn’t have to stay all night,”

 

His eyes were smiling. “You did it for me,”

 

Her eyes narrowed on him and her dreads fell off her shoulders. “You didn’t have to,”

 

“We did it for each other,” He stared for a few passing moments and stood up when Judith’s loud babbling travelled through the hall.

 

Michonne shot up. “I got her,”

 

He paused and stepped back, a glint twinkling in his eye. “OK. -- I’ll start breakfast.”

 

“Thanks,” Michonne breathed out.

 

“We’re not doing this alone, as individuals, Michonne. We’re doing it together, all of us.” He dipped his head and pulled her gaze up to him. “Don’t ever forget that.” He nodded when she did. “Just one thing,” He held his hand out as she moved towards the door and stopped. “Last night, the music -- you hated it, didn’t you?”

 

“Pretty awful,” Michonne said, followed by laughter. True, genuine, shoulders rocking laughter.

 

He stared at her and then he broke out laughing too. She was going to sleep better, somehow she knew having Rick close would comfort her in a way she hadn’t allowed it to before, in a way she’d tried her damndest to ignore. Tonight she was going to sleep better because she’d admitted in the quiet of her mind that felt something, deeper than a friendship and more than family. One day she woke up and he looked different, and she wanted it to be anything, everything else - Pete, Jessie, Deana, Reg, but it wasn't. It was Rick. It was always Rick.

"Hey," Rick said, brushing his finger along her elbow. "You need another nightcap like last night, you let me know," He headed out the door.

She followed him into the hallway with an uneasy feeling, like maybe she wouldn't be able to resist the precedent was setting. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

She sighed as she entered Judith's room. Rick was officially her nightcap.

 

/END

**Author's Note:**

> God, I haven't posted fic in four years so I hope it wasn't too painful to read. I'm a little rusty, plus I wrote this a bit before Rick and Michonne became canon. Thanks for reading! Enjoy tonight's episode. <3


End file.
